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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24226891">tender is the claw</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecaryatid/pseuds/thecaryatid'>thecaryatid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Monsterfucking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Teratophilia, crest beast sylvain, they're extremely soft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:49:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,159</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24226891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecaryatid/pseuds/thecaryatid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: crest beast! sylvain dicks down felix<br/>can be cis or trans felix. no noncon<br/>+ established relationship<br/>++ haha what that tongue do</p><p>Sylvain is human by day, crest beast by night. Felix doesn’t see a downside to this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>254</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>tender is the claw</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Felix tries to return from trips before nightfall. He loves Sylvain after dark, but he prefers being able to kiss his husband <em> hello </em> on his mouth, say <em> I love you </em> and hear it said back, have gentle hands brush the tangles out of his hair and a soft voice whispering sweet nothings into his ear. It’s a special sort of welcome. </p><p>But the sun is kissing the horizon just as Castle Fraldarius comes into view. It’s to be a choice between arriving a scant hour after sundown and delaying until the morning, and in his heart Felix is always impatient to be back in his husband’s arms. </p><p>No matter what shape those arms are at the moment. </p><p>Sylvain’s in their private study when Felix walks in, sprawled on his stomach in front of the fire. He cocks his head and shifts over, leaving just enough space on the plush rug for Felix to curl up next to him. Felix doesn’t bother with anything but tossing his coat and bag onto a convenient table before accepting the clear invitation, sitting down with his back pressed against the solid wall of Sylvain’s side and reaching up to scratch at the ridges over Sylvain’s eyes, just where he likes it best. </p><p>“Sorry. I meant to get back before dinner, but that bridge was washed out again. I had to take the long way around. And I suppose we need to see about replacing it.” </p><p>Sylvain croons soft and low, curling tighter to rest his head in Felix’s lap and twitch the tip of his tail against Felix’s side. It’s a huge, heavy head, big as Felix’s torso and covered in smooth-edged scales, decorated with a sharp spike of a horn in the center of the forehead and uneven ridges scored deep in the scales of the cheeks. </p><p>“I missed you.” Felix surrounds his sentence with careful kisses to the smoother surface at the tip of Sylvain’s blunt snout, caresses the sensitive scales right behind the horn until Sylvain’s whiskey-dark eyes go soft in delight. </p><p>The rumble vibrating deep in Sylvain’s chest is, Felix can only assume, <em> I missed you too</em>. Particularly when Sylvain lifts his nightmarish head, bumps his nose against the center of Felix’s chest and nudges until Felix flops over onto the rug, and starts licking up the side of Felix’s neck. </p><p>It’s a ferocious tongue, almost pointy at the tip and broadening all along its length, muscular and rough-surfaced. It tickles as Sylvain drags it over Felix’s neck and up to his cheek over and over, a whole series of sloppy kisses that track disgusting trails of drool until he’s laughing and shoving Sylvain away. Not that it helps; not that he physically could shove Sylvain away. A much smaller than average demonic beast is still a demonic beast, outweighing Felix at least ten to one, gifted with sharp claws and too many fangs to fit inside one mouth and exactly seven lethal horns interspersed from forehead to tail. </p><p>Sylvain grins down at Felix anyway, open mouth dripping with flesh-rending teeth. He flops down with the air of a job well done, head resting right beside Felix’s, a paw the size of a dinnerplate laying on Felix’s shoulder. </p><p>Is <em> nice </em> the right word to describe coming home to your adoring husband who spends his nights as a monster out of the goddess’s darkest dreams? Perhaps not generally. It is for Felix, who finds his first moment of relaxation in days lying down with a crest beast’s fangs within tearing distance of his jugular, with lethal-sharp claws flexing in lazy relaxation over his heart. He closes his eyes and sighs away the tension, mouth twitching up in an involuntary smile at the slow inhales and exhales audible from the bellows of Sylvain’s lungs. </p><p>“Come on. It’s been a few days since I slept in a bed,” he finally says, hauling himself up from his gentle repose. </p><p>Sylvain huffs in mock annoyance and stretches up as well, the tips of his spikes towering a foot over Felix’s head. He walks toward their bedroom in careful nonchalance that breaks when he has to crouch his way through the door. </p><p>“We should get that enlarged eventually,” Felix kicks at the frame as he follows. </p><p>Their bedroom features an extremely large, reinforced bedframe, suitable for a small demonic beast and an average-sized human. Even it can’t stand up to Sylvain’s excitement though - there’s a deep rug next to the bed, padded to be soft on Felix’s knees and enchanted to stand up against three-inch claws gripping at it. Most importantly, the room is thoroughly soundproofed. </p><p>He strips off his travel-stained clothes and tosses them on the floor by the wardrobe while Sylvain crowds up against him, licking at every new bit of exposed skin and dragging the smooth tip of his snout up against Felix’s chest. Sylvain also spares a moment to cast an irritated, judgemental glare toward the abandoned, crumpled clothes and swipe at them with the tip of his tail. </p><p>“They’re already dirty,” Felix protests. “I’ll clean them up tomorrow.” </p><p>Sylvain’s annoyed toss of his head sends a ripple of motion along all seven of his spikes and down to the tip of his tail, sinuous and threatening, but he sits himself down on the rug anyway, tongue lolling expectantly as Felix digs through a drawer for a full bottle of oil and a ring that he slips tight over the base of his cock. It gets another annoyed head toss from Sylvain. </p><p>“I haven’t seen you in weeks; I don’t want you to fuck me entirely senseless.” Felix joins Sylvain on the rug, at first just sitting comfortable and crosslegged, pressing his own face to the smooth, cool scales beneath the horn at Sylvain’s forehead. Beneath him Sylvain makes the drawn-out snorting sound Felix has learned to interpret as a laugh, rumbling like localized thunder. </p><p>He’s impatient; they’re both impatient, so Felix doesn’t fight as he’s nudged back until he’s lying flat, legs comfortably spread, being slowly examined, staring straight up into Sylvain’s bright eyes with his chest bracketed by lethal claws. </p><p>“Come on. You’re as impatient as I am,” Felix says when Sylvain doesn’t make any moves, stays looming and still above him. </p><p>There’s another of those deep, grumbling laughs, almost a growl. Sylvain opens his mouth - it alone as wide as Felix’s shoulders, big enough to fit his entire head - and grins down. Not a threat, certainly, but perhaps a brag? A challenge? A promise? The nuances of communication are lost sometimes, but Felix smirks back. </p><p>He sighs when Sylvain licks over his neck again. “Really? Are you trying to take my skin off?” </p><p>And then goes very, very still when Sylvain pulls back far enough to nose over Felix’s spread thighs, licking just around his cock, and lets the sharp points of his teeth drag slowly from the base of Felix’s stomach all the way to his shoulders. </p><p>Felix gasps when he repeats it, gaping his mouth wider this time and lingering with the points of his fangs pressing at the base of his ribs; and “fuck, <em> fuck</em>, Sylvain,” when he does it a third and fourth time, dragging his teeth up Felix’s sensitive, untouched sides, finally unable to stop his whimpers at the gentle pressure just one side of pain. Sylvain’s laughing again, and Felix can feel the shift and vibration at the points of the fangs now scraping over his stomach. </p><p>“Stop <em> teasing</em>,” he says, and then <em> whines </em> when Sylvain opens his mouth wide enough to fit over Felix’s entire torso, fangs pressing down on both of his sides and tongue laving over the stomach in between. </p><p>“You’re an asshole,” Felix says faintly, between the instinctively-terrifying pressure and the embarrassing way he’s rock hard from Sylvain pretending to eat him. </p><p>Finally Sylvain lets go and surveys his work with the distinct air of a job well done, Felix trembling and biting back his whines, hard and untouched, unmarked except for a half dozen shallow scratches where Sylvain’s fangs caught on fragile skin. He licks over them soothingly and then - <em> finally </em> - runs the flat of that enormous tongue over Felix’s cock, his balls, enveloping them in slick, rough, heat, and Felix can’t control the thrust of his hips or the way he tosses his head back and keens. </p><p>“I don’t - ah - I don’t want to come until you’re inside me,” Felix says, whole body quivering with every lap of Sylvain’s tongue. </p><p>The glare Sylvain shoots him is very definite, incredibly eloquent in the little eyeroll and toothy grin - <em> I know, but don’t rush me</em>. He moves on anyway, batting Felix over onto his stomach with one careful swat of his paw. It will almost definitely bruise; it also makes Felix whimper out another delighted <em> Sylvain! </em></p><p>The wet heat of Sylvain’s tongue runs over his ass, the backs of his thighs, and finally flattens itself over his hole. Felix clutches at the rug and closes his eyes, wills himself to relax, a losing battle against the trembles of tense excitement working their way through his thighs. </p><p>Sylvain’s tongue is a terribly convenient shape - tapered into a refined point at the end, broadening all down the excessive length, strong and muscular and apparently tireless, as though specifically designed to make Felix whine into the sheets as it works him open and fills him up. </p><p>He isn’t going to come until Sylvain fucks him properly, he <em> isn’t</em>, so he hitches his knees further up and doesn’t grind his leaking cock against soft fabric, doesn’t arch back to take Sylvain deeper, forces himself to lie still, pliant and quivering as he’s worked open in long, confident strokes of a tongue that melt him into incapability of anything but imagining more, panting in need for the transition from a yielding, soft tongue to Sylvain’s ridged cock, hard and huge, splitting him open until it’s the only thing filling his awareness. </p><p>“I’m ready,” he gasps out when it feels like he’s been stretched into eternal unyielding. Sylvain sits back after one last long lick over his insides, so he probably is actually ready. Long experience leads him to grab the bottle of oil and dump half of it over his hand, reaching back to slick himself up - fingers slip inside with so little resistance it’s almost horrifying, and they feel thin and unsatisfying even after just Sylvain’s tongue. </p><p>Sylvain sits up on his haunches, grinning, giving him a good look at the dick he’s about to be fucked with - huge next to Felix’s human, average one, small in comparison to the rest of Sylvain’s bulk. Felix spreads the rest of the oil over it and listens to Sylvain’s encouraging croons, lingering with his fingers running over the firm ridges under the head and then down to the bulge at the base that he’s never managed to take. He kisses at the very tip and stretches his lips around what he can take - almost nothing, what with how it broadens after the head, but enough to make Sylvain moan and shift in impatience, thrusting forward until Felix gives up and pulls back, eyes watering, jaw aching, legs trembling from anticipation at the stretch. </p><p>Felix shifts onto his knees, arching his back up and pressing against that blunt tip, pushing it easily past the ring of muscle at his entrance. But Sylvain, stubborn and playful and always pushing to see how vulnerable Felix will agree to be, just waits. So Felix slumps over, forehead pressed against the ground, pushing himself millimeter by millimeter back onto Sylvain’s cock. </p><p>He stays. The fucker stays <em> put </em> as Felix futilely tries to fuck himself on his cock, shuffling back to chase the fullness he needs, and Sylvain doesn’t do <em> anything</em>. </p><p>“Sylvain,” he finally gasps, tormented by his inability to get properly fucked. </p><p>Sylvain huffs out an amused breath. </p><p>It’s never hard to guess what Sylvain waits for. He likes Felix vulnerable, spreading himself open and lowering every wall he has; he likes words and questions and constant assurances that everything is fine. </p><p>“Please fuck me,” Felix bites out, face pressed into the ground.</p><p>Clearly it’s what Sylvain was waiting for. Enormous forelegs bracket either side of Felix’s head; Sylvain hauls his whole body over him, huge and heavy, still holding himself up but crouching so the scales of his belly drag over Felix’s back. He’ll get scratched up, Felix has time to think before Sylvain follows through and slides the rest of his cock deep, and Felix can’t stifle the cry that leaves his throat. </p><p><em> I love the way you whimper </em> Sylvain always says, so Felix lets himself whimper as he shudders around the cock, clenching down on smooth keratinous ridges that feel foreign and invasive and <em> really good </em>shifting inside him, molding him to a shape that human bodies are generally not meant to accommodate. </p><p>Sylvain grumbles in contentment, licks his tongue over the back of Felix’s neck, and pulls out. The voiceless, shattered moan Felix makes as Sylvain just teases the tip of his cock over his rim will never be heard by anyone outside this room; quaking against emptiness, digging the tips of his fingers into the rug and pressing his back up against Sylvain’s chest, heedless of the overlapping scales that dig into his skin. Sylvain, because he’s an asshole who likes to watch Felix squirm, shifts again, slips the head of his cock just inside Felix’s rim and then out again, catches it against him over and over until Felix is pretty sure his legs are going to give out from sheer frustration, and he doesn’t <em> stop</em>. </p><p>He’s considering actually begging when Sylvain finally takes mercy, slides his dick back into Felix properly, unsheathes it almost entirely and drives it in again, every thrust sending a whole series of textured ridges dragging over Felix’s prostate.</p><p>“Y-yes,” Felix gasps out, forced out of him by a particularly perfect thrust, “<em>yes</em>,” voice breaking as the harsh thrust and drag doesn’t let up, half-collapsed on the ground in insistent bliss and barely managing to hold his hips up for Sylvain’s convenience.</p><p>Even with the cockring it’s a minor miracle that Sylvain comes first, considering that Felix feels like nothing more than a shell hollowed out and refilled with pleasure, babbling out broken syllables of <em> yes </em> and <em> Sylvain </em> and <em> please </em>with every breath, crying hoarse and loud when Sylvain manages one more perfect thrust that presses each ridge of his cock up inside Felix just right. But there’s a few thrusts that are harder than the rest, nearly on the wrong side of painful and rough enough to send Felix scrabbling for a handhold to hold himself in place, and he’s, well, filled. Thoroughly filled with the absurd amount that Sylvain always cums when he’s like this, pouring into Felix and leaking out around the cock still filling him; trickling out in obscene quantities when Sylvain pulls out. </p><p>“<em> Sylvain</em>,” Felix begs, there’s really no other word for it, shaking and sweaty and collapsed in a pool of cum with his still-hard cock aching and aftershocks from the pleasure of being fucked tingling up his spine, exhausted and wanting. </p><p>He isn’t waiting very long. Sylvain steals a handful of smug seconds pressed against Felix’s back, expressing his delight in gentle, purring growls, but quickly moves to attend to Felix. He laps up the cum on the inside of his thighs with dexterous, sure swipes of his tongue; grazes the edges of his teeth over Felix’s legs; finally lets Felix’s squirming goad him on, lingering with hot breath spilling over Felix’s skin before finally lapping at his hole. </p><p>“More,” Felix pleads as the tongue laps shallowly inside; for once Sylvain doesn’t drag it out into a whole round of teasing and begging, just listens to Felix’s first urging and presses in deeper. He’s insistent this time, single-minded in alternating between lapping up the cum still filling Felix and pressing his tongue wriggling and muscular right up against the bundle of pleasure that lights up all of Felix’s nerves at once, firm and precise and repeated. </p><p>Felix sobs out one last <em> Sylvain </em>as he finally comes, untouched and fucked open on Sylvain’s tongue, whole body trembling with exhaustion and relief, lying unmoving in the mess they’ve made. </p><p>Sylvain doesn’t let him rest long; he noses at Felix’s side until he groans and rolls over, slides the cockring off and reaches up to scritch at Sylvain’s jaw. </p><p>“That was good,” he says, a completely inadequate description in his raw voice. He moves his legs experimentally; they work, but the pins-and-needles suggest that walking is going to present difficulty in the near future. The bed, halfway across the room, seems far away. “I think I’ll sleep here tonight.” </p><p>That gets him an extremely displeased grunt, Sylvain leaning close to glare, tilting his head back and forth so Felix gets the force of displeasure from both of his eyes. In his head he replays all of Sylvain’s various objections, spoken so often he doesn’t need them to actually be spoken: <em> your back always hurts when you sleep on the floor; that rug is disgusting, we don’t clean it often enough; I am not spending the night there with you</em>. </p><p>He sighs. “Well, whose fault is it that I can barely walk?” </p><p>The slow consideration of Sylvain’s look is always some sort of warning. </p><p>“What are -” Felix starts as he’s shoved over onto his side, and then yelps loud and wordless and doesn’t struggle, <em> does not struggle </em>when Sylvain’s jaws close carefully around his entire torso, picking him up and depositing him on the bed. </p><p>“Warn me next time!” Felix snaps out, but Sylvain’s blinking at him in slow apology, and there are no new nicks in his skin, and most importantly he didn’t have to walk. “But thank you,” he says grudgingly. </p><p>Sylvain hops up onto the bed - the huge, reinforced, absurdly sturdy bed - next to him, very much like a housecat made several hundred times larger and given a dozen additional sharp points. He slings a paw carefully over Felix’s chest, drapes his tail over Felix’s legs, crooks his neck so the side of his chin just bumps against Felix’s head. Felix lets himself relax into the familiar hold, soft blankets and cool scales and <em> Sylvain</em>, curled comfortably around him. </p>
<hr/><p>Felix wakes far past dawn, face pressed deep into the differently-nice but no less comfortable shape of Sylvain’s chest, warm and soft with muscle cushioned by a generous layer of fat and fuzzy red hair. He blinks up, Sylvain laying casually back onto the pillows, one arm wrapped around Felix’s shoulders and the other hand holding open some book. </p><p>“I didn’t get to say hi to you last night,” Sylvain says, pressing a kiss to one of the scratches he left on Felix’s shoulder.</p><p>“You were eloquent in your own way,” Felix says, leaning into the touch. “But I enjoy hearing your voice.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://twitter.com/thecaryatid">i'm on twitter</a>
</p><p>i'd like to thank bad dragon for reminding me the size and shape of things that people willingly fuck.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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